


5 Senses With Chuy

by r_stanning



Category: La Casa de las Flores | The House of Flowers (TV)
Genre: F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23926105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r_stanning/pseuds/r_stanning
Summary: “Start with deep breaths,” Paulina remembers Chuy say — or rather, Dr. Cohen, her father, say through his funny sock puppet. “And then pick out five things you can see.”Oddly enough, the memory of that particular scene is pretty clear in her mind. She remembers what she wore that day (tan culottes and a crisp white shirt, along with a pair of sensible maroon mules), the bread Salomón had offered her left forgotten on the desk (she had politely declined it), all the way down to the socks her psychiatrist-turned-father-figure had worn on his feet (pink and blue stripes). What isn’t clear, however, was why she is recalling it at this precise moment, as she meets Alejo’s eyes with her own. He is standing at the elevator, the open door having just revealed to him an entangled Paulina and María José.---Paulina tries to remember a coping technique Chuy had taught her — except she is a little busy at that exact moment having her ex-wife take her breath away. Spoiler alert for S3, and follows the story from S3E8 until the end!
Relationships: Paulina de la Mora/María José Riquelme
Comments: 32
Kudos: 71





	1. Sight

“Start with deep breaths,” Paulina remembers Chuy say — or rather, Dr. Cohen, her father, say through his funny sock puppet. “And then pick out five things you can see.”

Oddly enough, the memory of that particular scene is pretty clear in her mind. She remembers what she wore that day (tan culottes and a crisp white shirt, along with a pair of sensible maroon mules), the bread Salomón had offered her left forgotten on the desk (she had politely declined it), all the way down to the socks her psychiatrist-turned-father-figure had worn on his feet (pink and blue stripes). What isn’t clear, however, was why she is recalling it at this precise moment, as she meets Alejo’s eyes with her own. He is standing at the elevator, the open door having just revealed to him an entangled Paulina and María José.

“So, I shouldn’t wait for you, right?” he asks her reproachfully. To describe the entire lunch date they had just suffered through — him, Paulina, María José, and Kim — as a disaster was an understatement. But the look on his face is pained and, Paulina recognizes after a heartbeat, defeated. _One,_ her mind whispers, as she apologizes, not really knowing what else there is to say. She was never really his. Alejo presses the elevator button to disappear, likely forever, as Paulina’s eyes dart to his hand on the button. _Two,_ her mind counts.

Chuy had said that acknowledging five things you can see is the first step for the particular coping technique Dr. Cohen had been trying to teach her that day. She can’t seem to remember the rest of the steps… of course, not that Paulina cared to try, at least not now, not when she had just kissed María José again after what feels like an eternity. Her heart feels like it might just break out of her chest and her hands shake ever so slightly with the absurd amount of joy the act of kissing her ex-wife had given — nevermind that Alejo had seen her do it, or that the kiss had come after María José had rejected her for that curly-haired lawyer they just said goodbye to not even five minutes ago.

At the thought of Kim, a white-hot feeling rises up in Paulina’s chest. _Pinche Kim and her pinche salmon,_ she thinks, before she can stop herself. She takes a deep breath as the elevator doors shut oh so slowly, closes her eyes, and turns back towards María José. Her beautiful María José.

Sitting across from this creature at lunch and having to control herself from holding her was utter torture, as María José seemed to grow more beautiful every single day. Paulina could barely register the fun fact Alejo was contributing to the conversation or the not-so-subtle self-praise Kim was showering herself. She was too focused on the way María José’s hair fell gracefully over her shoulders, the simple pearl necklace resting gently against her chest. She was also mildly concerned over the salmon María José had been eating — she could’ve sworn her ex-wife was allergic to it. _But apparently not anymore,_ she thinks with just a hint of bitterness, as she focuses on María José now, in this hallway, looking away from her in what seems like embarrassment.

Whatever emotions are raging through Paulina at this moment, embarrassment feels like the least of it. Joy? Check. Disbelief? Check. Jealousy? Check, check, check.

“Why you always…?” Paulina asks through gritted teeth, and then reaches out to grab María José’s face and turn it towards hers. _Three,_ her mind interrupts, as she looks into the blonde’s striking grey-green eyes. For a moment it takes her breath away, labored as it was from that short kiss. These were the eyes she had first looked into two decades ago, and had become her home for so long; the eyes that saw through her, and the eyes she had thought about every single night. “Why?” Paulina asks again, before the monster in her chest takes over and she meets María José’s lips with her own. 

A heartbeat passes, and María José returns her kiss with a vigor that surprises even her. María José’s hands find their way to her shoulders, and then her back, as Paulina pulls herself closer to the taller blonde desperately, urgently. She wraps an arm around María José’s shoulders, and the latter responds by pivoting both of them sideways and pressing Paulina’s back to the elevator doors with a force that sent a thrill down her spine.

_It’s like finding an oasis in the middle of a goddamn desert._

After what felt like hours, but was perhaps just a few seconds in María José’s arms, Paulina opens her eyes ever so slightly. Her senses are full of her, and Paulina’s skin feels like it’s on fire wherever María José’s hands go. Paulina places a hand on the elevator door behind her for support, pushing her body impossibly closer to María José’s, and her half-lidded eyes dimly register the signages in the hallway behind her love. _Four,_ her mind counts, as she recognizes the labels “GH-04” and “GH-02”. Whatever those signages pointed to was lost on them both, as María José turns her head to place small kisses along Paulina’s jawline, allowing them both to catch their breaths.

Paulina shifts to give her ex-wife better access, losing herself to the sheer pleasure the light press of María José’s lips on her jaw and neck cause throughout her body. She holds tight to her love’s shoulders and her waist, imagining that she’d never let go, imagining that there was no Alejo and no Kim, and no mystery about her prison-mate to solve. Just her and the love of her life, together at last, and all was right in the world.

She takes a deep breath and moves a hand to María José’s chest, hungry for more of her skin. This moment feels like a dream, but the cold from the elevator door seeping through her thin blouse, the heat growing in between their bodies, and the dull pain in her wrist from when she slammed her hand on the door all tell her otherwise. If you had told her last week that she would find herself pressed against a cold surface kissing her ex-wife like her life depended on it — _in a hallway,_ no less — the past Paulina would have laughed, and then cried. But the current Paulina pauses as her fingers find their way to the edge of María José’s green blouse, landing on the curious patch of red that had begun to form on the latter’s skin.

_Five_ , her mind registers on its own, and she releases a small giggle before she can stop herself. The soft lips that had been playing with the skin where Paulina’s jaw met her neck paused.

“Salmon,” she mutters, laughing softly despite herself.

“What?” María José asks, her breathing heavy, speaking for the first time since before the elevator doors opened, and clearly confused at her ex-wife’s sudden interjection. Paulina tries not to feel _too_ upset at the loss of contact, and so does, she senses, María José. But she had already blurted it out, so she might as well explain.

“I was right,” Paulina says, pointing to the angry red patches peeking out from underneath María José’s blouse. Her ex-wife’s skin looks no less tempting with them, of course — and Paulina makes a mental note to savor exploring it, if María José allows, later. “You’re still allergic.”

At this, María José gazes down at herself and laughs. The crinkles at the sides of her eyes, her white teeth, the curve of her lips as the realization of what Paulina had just said dawns on her — _six, seven, eight,_ Paulina’s mind counts, as she gazes at the goddess before her. Chuy had said to list just five things, she dimly remembers, but finding herself in the arms of her ex-wife once more seems like a miracle she cannot help but acknowledge every detail of.

Paulina had, after all, never liked following the rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the first time I've written anything outside of work or school in literal years, so I hope you guys enjoy! I loved Season 3 a lot and am definitely not ready to let these characters go. :(
> 
> I must also note that the coping technique Chuy is teaching is called the [5-4-3-2-1 grounding technique](https://copingskillsforkids.com/blog/2016/4/27/coping-skill-spotlight-5-4-3-2-1-grounding-technique). Paulina is terrible at following it, but I find that it's a pretty good way to calm down for when I am feeling very anxious. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _By now, of course, Paulina knows all of her favorite spots, the places that make her lover sigh, the ones that make her breath hitch, and the ones that make her moan with abandon — she knows and loves them all. Some have been there since before María José became fully herself, while others were new discoveries she had only recently become acquainted with. But still, Paulina realizes, there was something so erotic about the idea of her saying these spots out loud for her._

It is a few hours after the entire elevator affair when Paulina finds herself in bed, staring up at the ceiling and unable to keep a stupid smile off of her face. The smile has been there since she raised the issue of María José’s rashes back at the hallway, and she highly doubts that it will go away any time soon. Not that she minded, of course.

The bed she is on is still quite warm, and deliciously so. Her clothes are strewn haphazardly around the room, and she thinks about getting up to fix them. But the bed is too comfortable, _though it does, admittedly, lack someone in it,_ she thinks. She wonders idly what María José thought about being caught by Alejo, and thinks about how she doesn’t feel the slightest bit sad about him leaving forever. _That coping technique from Chuy, though… I should remember it just in case,_ she thinks, and a second later María José re-enters the bedroom with a glass of cold water to share.

The blonde climbs back under the covers, kisses her head tenderly, and hands her the glass before lying back down. Paulina accepts it with a smile, and wastes no time maneuvering her body to fit against María José’s side once more, propping her head up on her hand. Paulina takes a sip. “I see the gears in your head are busy turning again, Pau. What are you thinking about?”

“Chuy,” she replies, with a laugh, and passes the glass back to her. María José wraps an arm around Paulina, and at the former’s questioning gaze, Paulina explains, “My psychiatrist’s — er, father’s — puppet. I remember he was telling me a relaxation technique I can use, but I can’t seem to remember the second step.”

“What was the first?”

“Counting things I could see,” Paulina replies, reaching out to touch her ex-wife’s nose. “I counted your nose, your eyes, your lips, the side of your neck…” she says softly, running her finger lightly, teasingly, at each one as she goes.

“Well,” María José says, setting the water down on the bedside table, a small smile starting at the curve of her lips. “I’m no psychiatrist, but I can think of a few ways we can relax.” 

At this, Paulina giggles, reaching out to intertwine María José’s fingers with hers. The hand on her shoulder is moving slowly, tantalizingly down to her waist, and Paulina marvels at how perfectly her hand fits in María José’s. She had almost forgotten how it felt like to fit so snugly next to her love and enjoy her touch… _No wait, that’s it._

_“_ Touch!” Paulina exclaims, and the hand playing with the curve of her waist pauses in surprise.

“What?” the blonde asks once more, laughing a little bit at her sudden change in tone. “I’d be happy to touch you some more, Pau.”

“Yes, I’d love that but,” Paulina snickers, “What I mean is that the next step is about the sense of touch.”

“Ahh,” María José responds. 

“Chuy said I have to count four things I can touch.”

There is a pause, before her partner asks quietly, “Do I count as something to be touched?” María José winks, and Paulina melts.

“Well, yes I suppose,” Paulina teases, moving her hand reluctantly away from María José’s, turning her body to face her fully, and sitting up straight with her hands on her lap. She feigns a critical survey of her ex-wife lying in her bed in all her naked glory, and purses her lips. “And where would señorita Riquelme like to be touched?”

The blonde pauses and meets Paulina’s eyes, the air in the room suddenly charged with an energy that was almost palpable for them both. The brunette watches as María José’s lips fall open just slightly as she thinks. By now, of course, Paulina knows all of her favorite spots, the places that make her lover sigh, the ones that make her breath hitch, and the ones that make her moan with abandon — she knows and loves them all. Some have been there since before María José became fully herself, while others were new discoveries she had only recently become acquainted with. But still, Paulina realizes, there was something so erotic about the idea of her saying these spots out loud for her.

In the back of her mind, she’s sure this is far from what Chuy and Dr. Cohen had in mind — _Why am I thinking about a damn sock now, anyway?_ — and it's not like this is getting her relaxed.

In contrast, every nerve in Paulina’s body feels like it is on end, but in a good way, and she feels a light flush building up on her cheeks. After a heartbeat, María José says, "My hair, please."

In response, Paulina raises her right hand and places it on top of the blonde's head, moving downwards and threading her fingers gently through the soft locks. "I like when you run your fingers through it when we kiss," María José says, closing her eyes. "Or when I'm busy going down on you." 

Paulina lets out a small moan at this, remembering what they had been up to just twenty minutes earlier. She adds her left hand, gently pressing the pads of her fingers onto María José's scalp, before coursing her fingers through her golden locks. “One _,_ ” she counts out loud, as the blonde opens her eyes and holds her gaze. "Does that feel good?" she whispers. 

María José doesn’t answer with her words. Instead, she reaches out to grab Paulina by the hips, pulling her closer so that the brunette straddles her waist. From this angle, touching her hair was much easier, and comes with the added benefit of letting María José run her hands slowly up and down her sides. Paulina could feel María José's hot breath on her chest, and resists the urge to close the distance between them completely and just kiss the living daylights out of her. _There's time enough for that later._

Paulina focuses on combing her fingers gently through the blonde locks, twirling them and watching her lover's face tenderly. She marvels at the electricity between them, the sense of gravity that seemed to pull her always closer to the woman underneath her — no matter which ocean, or walls, or people stood in the way. She delights in the texture of María José's hair, of the way it falls delicately alongside her lovely face. Paulina gently moves a hand behind her lover's head, from her nape up, palm to her scalp. She lets some of the hair run through her fingers, and slowly closes her fist for a light pull. At this, María José's eyes close, and it is her turn to moan softly. 

Encouraged, Paulina asks, "And for the second thing to touch?" 

María José takes a deep breath, as if to collect herself, and Paulina smiles inwardly at her handiwork. _And we still have three more to go._

"My breasts, please," the blonde says, her voice just above a whisper, and Paulina moves to comply. 

"Whatever my princess wants," she replies, smiling, before moving her hands slowly down from María José's head to her chest. Paulina takes her time, mapping out her shoulders, and then her clavicles, before palming the two mounds on her lover's chest. She gives them a light squeeze, and the woman beneath her arches her back lightly in response. 

No matter how many times they come together like this, Paulina thinks it always feels both new and familiar. She traces her fingers around her ex-wife’s nipples, already stiff and at attention, pinching one lightly with her left hand while her right cups the other. Underneath her, María José’s breath hitches, as her lover laughs softly. “Two,” Paulina whispers, meeting her eyes. She continues her ministrations for several more heartbeats, drawing slow, wide arches along the blonde’s chest with her palms, circling back to her adorable peaks, and squeezing gently. She makes sure to pay attention to every inch of skin — their time apart has only underscored how precious the luxury of touching her like this was, and Paulina pushes the thought of someone else doing this out of her mind. There’s no reason to ruin a good moment with the thought of Kim. _Pinche Kim._ The rashes were beginning to fade, and María José’s chest was lightly flushed pink for an entirely different reason as Paulina maps the landscape of her torso.

Eventually, Paulina’s hands settle on her lover’s breasts, kneading lightly. María José lets go of Paulina’s hips, where her hands had been drawing light circles, to settle on top of the brunette’s hands. She meets her eyes and add a little more pressure. “Three,” the blonde says, counting for her this time, giving her a look with an intensity that sends a thrill down Paulina’s spine and pools heat in her center. She watches as María José’s fingers intertwine with her own, setting a new tempo and vigor to her touches. At this, Paulina decides she can no longer hold off on molding her mouth to the shape of María José’s, and so she leans down and does so.

Lips, teeth, tongue — Paulina kisses her ex-wife with renewed spirit, coaxing out a sigh from the blonde’s mouth and pressing herself as close as she could to María José. Legs on either side of her partner’s torso, she loses herself in the kiss.

A minute passes, and María José pushes Paulina gently to turn her on her back. Hands still entwined, they switch positions, María José on top this time as Paulina delights in the delicious sensation of her lover’s weight on her body, her legs wrapping around María José, a heady feeling overtaking her mind. The blonde raises their joined hands above Paulina’s head, her lips never breaking contact with her lover’s. Paulina opens her mouth to her, wondering how she could’ve survived for so long without this, without her. Her woman.

María José’s hands have always been rough, but warm — even back when they were 18 and Paulina would sneak out of her home to meet her in the cold night. She still remembers feeling invincible as long as she was with José María, and she feels invincible now, too, as if no one can ever hurt her, and that she can do anything at all as long as she was with María José, who is now busy tracing her jawline with kisses, moving slowly, tantalizingly towards her ear.

  
“There is a fourth one, yes?” María José whispers, her voice low and her breathing heavy.

It takes a second before Paulina registers what María José is asking. The blonde knows what she is doing, knows her ears are particularly sensitive, and knows that it takes all of Paulina’s willpower to focus on the question at hand, and then nod. “Yes,” she gasps, hands breaking out of María José’s loose grip to clutch at her shoulders and scratch her lover’s back. “Where do you want me to touch?”

María José moves her face away from Paulina’s ear to look into her eyes with a mischievous smile. Paulina knows she would do anything or go anywhere for that smile, and her lover answers by pressing her hips purposefully down to her own.

“Number four, please.”

Paulina is happy to obey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! It's day number 23492 of shipping Majolina. Thank you for reading 🥰


	3. Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The thing about having a big and chaotic family is that the quiet can sometimes be unnerving for Paulina, as if there’s an unknown but urgent task that needs doing or someone that needs her help right at this very moment. Spending time in prison has also warped her perception of silence, because it’s almost never quiet when you’re with dozens of other women with backgrounds you’d rather not know. The only time it ever was quiet would be right before something bad happened._
> 
> _But here and now is a different kind of quiet that Paulina can only associate with feeling safe and cherished._ Or maybe it’s the orgasms, _she thinks wryly. She could use a little more of this silence._
> 
> _Just as the thought crosses Paulina’s mind, however, a phone rings and pierces the peace._

“Good, Paulinita,” she hears Chuy’s sing-song voice say from a distance, in that curious space between dreaming and waking. “The next step is to listen — note down three things you can hear.”

She opens her eyes to see that the sun is well on its way down the horizon, flooding her room in orange and pink light. Paulina makes a mental note to ask Dr. Cohen about the side effects of alprazolam on dreams, as she feels her lover’s fingers lightly make their way up and down her arm, raising goosebumps where they went. She feels warm, oh so warm, and it is largely thanks to the woman curled up behind her, legs intertwined with hers.

For a moment, Paulina closes her eyes to take a mental snapshot, not wanting to disturb the glow of this unexpected afternoon just yet. When she woke up this morning, she hadn’t planned on having that disaster of a lunch with Kim, María José, and Alejo — much less the (very welcome) turn of events over the past few hours. But she is here, and so is María José, and she tries her best to stay in the present moment instead of following all the little trains of thought her anxiety was jumpstarting in her brain. 

_Let’s see, Chuy said to name three things I can hear,_ she reminds herself. But it’s quiet now, with María José’s light breathing the only sound in the room. In truth, Paulina can feel it more than she can hear it, warm on the back of her neck. She thinks about all the sounds of this afternoon — the moans that came out of María José’s lovely mouth, the litanies that escaped her own, the wicked sound of their bodies coming together. It is enough to make her ears redden, and she fights to stay still and extend this quiet sunset moment.

The thing about having a big and chaotic family is that the quiet can sometimes be unnerving for Paulina, as if there’s an unknown but urgent task that needs doing or someone that needs her help right at this very moment. Spending time in prison has also warped her perception of silence, because it’s almost never quiet when you’re with dozens of other women with backgrounds you’d rather not know. The only time it ever was quiet would be right before something bad happened.

But here and now is a different kind of quiet that Paulina can only associate with feeling safe and cherished. _Or maybe it’s the orgasms,_ she thinks wryly. She could use a little more of this silence.

Just as the thought crosses Paulina’s mind, however, a phone rings and pierces the peace. It isn’t her ringtone, and sure enough the fingers lightly tracing lines down her arm disappear as her lover rises from the bed and walks towards the source of the sound. _One,_ Paulina counts in her head, registering the intrusive sound and the sudden loss of warmth as the bed shifts. María José had left her phone on the chair by the corner of the room, and there is a brief pause between her footsteps and the sound of her phone accepting the call.

“Hi, Kim,” Paulina hears her say. _Chingate_.

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t busy.”

Try as she might, Paulina can’t make out what that damn woman is saying over the phone. She decides that there’s no point in feigning sleep, not now that Kim had already ruined the magic, and turns her body towards the blonde in the corner of the room. María José meets her eyes briefly, her expression inscrutable in the dimming afternoon light, before looking away once more.

Paulina can’t explain how much she hated Kim at this very moment. She hates her face, hates the way she would touch María José lightly on the arm at lunch, hates her bland salmon ( _How can you even ruin salmon?)_. Plus, as much as she supports trans people’s rights and those who fight for them, something about the way Kim had spoken about Sandro at lunch really bothered her. But most of all, she hates that Kim is in María José’s life, and, if she was being honest, hates the sinking feeling that perhaps, despite the afternoon that they had just shared, María José may not want Paulina in her life after all.

“Yes, I didn’t forget,” the blonde says quietly into the phone, breaking Paulina out of her reverie. “I’ll see you soon.”

There is a click, and then silence. 

María José takes a deep breath, and turns towards Paulina. “So, that was Kim.”

“Yes.”

“I have to meet her for dinner in a bit.”

Paulina doesn’t know what to say, so she just pushes herself into a seated position, her back on the headboard, and wraps the sheets around herself. It’s not like their afternoon cancels out whatever María José and Kim have going on, even though she desperately wants to pretend it does.

The blonde walks slowly back to the bed. Even now, Paulina can’t help but to admire her body, the way her muscles move as she walks, the curve of her hips, and the graceful way with which she carries herself. The last rays of the sun bounce off her tanned skin and golden locks, giving her an almost ethereal glow as she takes a seat at the edge of Paulina’s bed.

Before she can stop herself, Paulina moves towards her and wraps her arms around her waist, her legs on either side of María Jose’s body. The old Paulina would’ve stayed put, she knows, would’ve built her walls right back up and kept her feelings under lock and key. 

But she’s different now, and over time — she wasn’t sure exactly when — she’s learned that there are some things you have to stick your neck out for.

And it is with this in mind that she presses her forehead on to her lover’s nape, and says, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” comes her reply, and the small flame of hope Paulina nurses in her chest grows just a bit stronger.

“You know I love you, that hasn’t changed,” she mutters, as she feels María José’s arms cover her own. “You don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to.” She breathes in, heart beating fast, and holds her just a bit tighter in her arms. “I just want to make sure you knew.” _I love you, I love you, I love you._

A silence falls on them both once again, and Paulina focuses on her breathing. In and out, in and out. 

“Oh, Paulina,” María José says with a sigh, and Paulina thinks about how her name is never as beautiful to her ears as when she hears her lover say it. _Two_ , she counts, committing the sound of it to memory. “I have a lot to think about.”

“Okay,” she says.

“And I should go.” 

For a moment, María Jose doesn’t do anything, doesn’t move to unwrap herself from the brunette’s limbs and go like she says she should. Instead, she takes several deep breaths, and Paulina wishes she could go back to five minutes ago when everything was still at peace. But she knows she can’t keep pretending there is no world outside her room, and eventually, like she did with the cabaret and Diego, she’s going to have to face the consequences of her actions and do her best — no matter what it takes. _The best way out,_ Paulina thinks to herself, whether it is prison or this sinking feeling in her stomach, _is always through._

Eventually (it may have been a minute or an hour, Paulina’s not sure, but only knows it was too soon), María José gently takes a hold of Paulina’s wrists and disentangles herself from her arms. The blonde turns her body slowly, and puts a warm hand against Paulina’s cheek.

“I’ll call you, yes?” María José says with a small smile. Paulina nods, and the blonde presses a small kiss on her forehead, pauses, as if in thought, and kisses her again, this time on her lips. “We still have that mystery to solve.”

At this, the blonde stands and finds her clothes, neatly folded on the chair where her phone had been. It occurs to Paulina how reckless they’d been this afternoon — Alejo catching them in the act was bad enough, but what if Kim had walked in on them, too? _Then she wouldn’t be saying goodbye like this, I suppose,_ she thinks with just a hint of bitterness. _Pinche Kim._

Paulina watches as her lover dresses up once more, hair just slightly messed up — her handiwork, of course — but still lovely. María José gives Paulina one last smile, and then shows herself out.

The door shuts behind her with a soft thud, and Paulina counts out loud: “Three.”

And with that, silence settles in her room once more. She almost wishes that horrendous song Bruno and Micaela had produced was playing — ¡ _Bailando bailando amigos adios, adios el silencio loco!,_ her mind recalls on its own — just to cancel out the heavy quiet María José had left behind.

_Almost_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out more sad than horny, which are the only two acceptable lesbian emotions, I would think, when it comes to these two at around this point in Season 3. 🤪 The next chapter would take place before and during Episode 9, so thank you for reading, and thank you for those who sent in really kind words about the work so far. This is the first time I've written anything outside of school or work in years, so it really means a lot to me. Have a great day 🥰


	4. Smell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An easy silence follows, and Paulina hesitates, wanting to tell her that she’s beautiful, that she loves her, and that she’s happy to see the back of Kim forever and ever, and can they please try again because they’re clearly such a good team? But that was way too much, and so she keeps her mouth shut. It is María José who breaks the silence, walking towards the brunette and saying, “Thank you, Paulina, for today."
> 
> Paulina smiles. “I should be thanking you.”  
>    
> “Well, you’re welcome,” the blonde replies, placing a warm hand against Paulina’s cheek. That sweet sandalwood and vanilla scent is back again, and it isn’t the alcohol that Paulina thinks she’s drunk with — but her. So helplessly drunk, but still somehow parched for that scent and this woman. _Her_ woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a little bit longer to write, my apologies, but it's also much longer than I had anticipated. It felt like it took on a life of its own, though, and I'd like to thank everyone for sticking with me so far these past few days!
> 
> Special thank you to [LorelaiMD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LorelaiMD) for a detail you'll find in the story below. Enjoy!

  
  


Paulina won’t lie: Seeing María José leave her room like that was painful, but she understands. She had driven the blonde out of her life twice now — first during the divorce, and more recently in her senseless quest for revenge — and both times had hurt immensely. With the benefit of hindsight, she has since understood that she was wrong… not that it made the separation hurt any less. But she had survived, and by some miracle, María José had decided to come back when she had asked.

She’d rather not have to go through it a third time, though.

And so, Paulina vows, she’ll play her cards right. She takes comfort in the fact that this particular goodbye was _not_ final, and that at the very least, María José is still there to solve the mystery of Chiva with her. And she had kissed her — that is more than enough for her to go with.

In the meantime, Paulina pours herself into doting on Brunito. Lord knows she had missed him, and he her, during her “Helsinki” trip. He’s no longer a child, and he probably knows she hadn’t actually gone to Finland, but to his credit he does not ask. He simply hugs her just a beat longer than he usually does, makes sure to bid her good night when he gets home from the studio, and prepares coffee for her on most mornings. She asks about his days, what he’s been up to, and what sorts of things he wants to do with his budding career. She tries to learn the lyrics of his music. And most of all, she takes comfort in the fact that all is well for them at home. 

He asks about his other mamá sometimes, too, and Paulina makes sure he knows they are on good terms. The part of Paulina that has not forgotten how to wish with her all heart like a small child does upon a falling star still holds out hope that someday, they would be complete again as a family. 

There is still, however, the matter of Kim. Just the thought of her leaves a sour taste in Paulina’s mouth. But if she is being honest with herself, Paulina knows it wasn’t Kim’s fault she was there for María José, not when she herself was in prison for something her ex-wife had repeatedly pleaded with her to let go of. And it wasn’t like she didn’t find solace in someone else in María José’s absence, no matter how much she regrets that now.

She thinks about plotting against Kim — she is Virginia’s daughter (and, she acquiesces, Victoria’s granddaughter) after all, and that type of thing is in her blood. But Paulina doesn’t really have the heart for it, not when her latest grand plot had so badly backfired, and not when she risks hurting María José in the process. And so it is that on the week following the elevator affair (and the delightful afternoon that followed), she focuses her energy on Bruno, the cabaret, and solving Silvia’s mystery.

\--- 

On the day Paulina is set to meet María José again for some sleuthing, she finds herself taking extra care when getting ready. _Of course I have to look good,_ she thinks. _Hygiene and grooming are important things I missed a lot while in prison. Nothing more._

She does her make up the way that her ex-wife happened to like, though it’s just a coincidence, of course, as she just feels like having this particular look today. She dons a simple white shirt that shows off her clavicles and her waist, pays special attention to get the waves of her hair to curl _just right_ , and even spritzes on a flowery perfume before she heads out of her room for breakfast. If Bruno notices the extra effort, he doesn’t say a word. He merely shoots her a knowing smile as he hands her a cup of coffee. Paulina pretends not to see.

She recalls how she had done something worse once before, though unsuccessfully, when Bruno was much younger. She isn’t proud of her actions now, but while waiting for the divorce, she had kicked María José out from their bedroom to sleep on the sofa. And every evening, she’d come out to get a glass of water in heart-stopping lingerie, take her time walking through the house, and make sure the light hits her figure _just so._

At the time, it had been to show José María what she’d be missing if she decided to become fully herself, and it had been cruel. It didn’t even make her feel any better. But years later, on a particularly good day in Madrid, she had apologized and all was forgiven. María José even joked about someday maybe recreating the scene, this time in a way that ends with them both in bed and happy, and Paulina feels herself blush at the thought of it. They had been living with both Purificación and Bruno at the time though, so it was out of the question. _But maybe someday…._

Of course, it’s not like she can strut into Kim’s kitchen clad in lace. And so she settles for a stylish ensemble, comfortable brogues, and her favorite lipstick for good luck. The primary objective is finding the truth of what had happened to Chiva, she reminds herself, and what role her family played in it. Somehow winning María José back, important as it was to her, is only secondary.

\--- 

Paulina forces a smile as Kim opens the door for her some 20 minutes later, trying not to visibly cringe as she lets the woman give her an overly polite air-kiss on the cheek. María José is busy sorting through stacks of paperwork on the dining table, and Paulina can’t help but feel elated at the sight of her love. The blonde flashes her a smile, quick, but warm, and she takes a seat to her right.

True to form, Paulina had come prepared with a mental list of things to look out for in the records, as well as the determination to act like a mature adult about the entire situation. But still, something about being so near María José again after the last time they had met, after the things they had said, heard, done, and tasted of each other, with Kim now in the same damn room, made her feel warm all over. Or maybe it is the ventilation and indoor humidity, so she silently curses Kim and her home — partly because she just wants to — and takes off her vest as they begin going through Silvia’s court records. 

María José takes the lead in scanning the paperwork as Paulina gets a better look around the brightly lit kitchen, fan in hand, trying not to think about what Kim and María José get up to in here. She quietly tries to ground herself once more, forcing her mind to think of that elusive technique Dr. Cohen had been teaching her. _Ah yes,_ she reminds herself. _The next step is to point out two things you can smell._

Now that she comes to think of it, the apartment, horrendous as it and its owner were, smells kind of… well, _good_. Paulina breathes in a whiff of sandalwood and vanilla, with just a hint of jasmine in the air. _One,_ she counts, right before María José excitedly points to a detail in the paperwork.

She leans her body closer to get a better look at the text her lover points to, not-so-accidentally touching María José’s shoulders with her own. _There is no way she can’t feel that electricity,_ she thinks briefly, before forcing herself to focus once more. 

“Oh, at my house!” she says, recognizing her address in the records. María José points out more key clues they can use as leads for the rest of the day, and she takes note of them accordingly.

It is only a matter of time before they are interrupted by Kim though, who is apparently refusing to blend in the background. Paulina looks away as the other brunette calls her lover “darling,” and rolls her eyes at what sounded like a quick kiss. Despite her resolution, the monster in her chest is downright enraged, wants to claw at Kim and take María José far away from here. She fights the temptation to do just that, and instead settles on fanning at the blonde’s face in jealous annoyance. She needs to be an adult, she thinks, but _I’m no saint_. Even when María José puts a hand on her arm to get her to focus on the name of Chiva’s witness, half of her mind is still fantasizing about tackling Kim to the ground.

_Focus on that scent, Pau,_ she tells herself to try and calm down. She breathes deeply, and it works a little better than she thought it would, so she says a quiet thank you to Chuy, wherever he is. She wishes she knew why this Patricio Lascurain sounds so familiar, though.

And with that, they were off. As she drives them to their first stop, the Lascurain family home, Paulina notices that the scent she had noted back in Kim’s house has followed them into her car. It is only when they disembark and start walking side by side towards the grandiose front door that it dawns on her that the scent isn’t from Kim’s home at all — it is María José.

She is pretty sure she had never smelled this scent on her ex-wife before, and a part of her wonders if the cologne was a gift from Kim. _Or maybe, she had put on some new cologne just for you,_ a traitorous voice in her head whispers.

Either way, the thought of it stayed at the back of her mind, as they talked to the elderly Señora Lascurain and Patricio’s sister. Her hand finds its way to María José’s back over the course of the conversation — just a friendly gesture, she thinks, nothing more — and does her best to pay attention to the unravelling mystery. She thinks about how lucky she is that she is not alone in this.

They overstay their welcome just a little too soon, and they make their way back to the car to drive to the Corcuera family home. Despite the Lascurains pointing them to him, this old man, too, was not of much help, and was considerably less pleasant. Paulina is grateful the conversation did not last long, as the elderly Agustín Corcuera had managed to say so many transphobic and homophobic things in barely five minutes of conversation.

It is a quiet walk back to the car, so she decides to remark, “He seems like a very pleasant old man.” The blonde laughs at this, and Paulina feels the fatigue from the day instantly vanish at the sound. She turns to the taller woman just as they get to the car, and reaches out a hand to touch her arm. “I’m sorry about… well… him.”

“It’s alright, thank you,” María José replies, looking at her with a small smile. Paulina thinks about how her ex-wife had probably had to endure worse over the years, including from herself, and feels both anger at the situation and pride for the strong woman in front of her. “The right people understand, and that’s enough.” 

Paulina takes a deep breath — _there’s that sandalwood scent again_ — and makes her way to the driver’s seat. “By the way,” she can’t help but ask, “Is that a new cologne?”

The blonde opens the car door across from her and gives her a curious look. “Yes,” she says. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” she replies simply, doing her best to focus on starting the engine and getting out of the parking spot. She steals a quick glance at the blonde as she puts the car on drive. “It suits you.”

\--- 

“I think he was your real father.”

It has been a couple of hours since Ernesto’s big revelation to her, and Paulina is still wrapping her mind around it as she sips some scotch at the cabaret. When she woke up this morning, she had hoped to find out a little more about Chiva’s mystery witness, and perhaps get a better understanding of just why the old lady hated her family so. She didn’t expect to learn that she wasn’t actually Jewish. 

With a sigh, she turns towards the stage to see Yuri start her new song. This is an older one from Beyoncé, though it is no less catchy. Paulina watches intently, partly in appreciation of Yuri in the role of her dreams, and partly to distract herself. “I just wanna be that girl you like,” she mouths along absent-mindedly, casting a quick glance at the full venue. _At least the cabaret is doing well._

Yuri’s Beyoncé croons, “The kind of girl you like, girl you like,” as Paulina’s phone starts to ring. Her screen tells her that the call is from María José.

_Now there’s another thing I wasn’t expecting._ She had dropped the blonde off at the mental facility for her visit with Puri hours ago, and Paulina knows her only other commitment today is Kim’s photo shoot. She should be busy throughout the evening — unless of course, something has gone wrong?

Worried, she taps the button to accept the call. “María José, are you okay?”

“Yes,” came her lover’s reply, and she covers her other ear to better hear her. Despite her answer, something about her tone of voice makes Paulina think she is not. “Are you at the cabaret? I think I need a little help.”

She quickly answers yes, and María José responds by telling her she’ll be there in a bit, before hanging up. Paulina orders a drink for her, just in case she needs it, and worries about what may have happened to her in the hours they were apart. A little selfishly, perhaps, she feels a little excited about getting to see her again, so soon after they had parted, and is pleased that she had come to _her_ for help.

Soon enough, the blonde enters the cabaret with an inscrutable expression, her necklace off-center. She is clutching at her hand and wincing slightly as she scans the room to find Paulina. The brunette meets her halfway and leads her to a comfortable seat near the bar and away from the stage. “What happened to you?”

“Do you have ice?” 

Paulina gestures for some from the barman, before turning back towards her ex-wife. She reaches out to gently grab María José’s hand. The knuckles look red and swollen, though no bones seem to be broken. “What —?”

“I punched Kim.”

Whatever Paulina was expecting, it wasn’t that. _Though it’s not exactly bad news._

“You punched Kim?” she repeats, dumbfounded.

“In the face, yes.” 

“What?” she exclaims, fighting hard to push back a laugh. The ice arrives, and Paulina takes out a handkerchief, wraps a few cubes inside it, and gently places it against the hand she was still holding. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The blonde’s face looks pained, but her eyes are still lit with what Paulina recognizes as anger. “There’s nothing much to say, really,” María José says above the music. “In the end, she’s like that old man Corcuera. But with breasts.”

“I’m sorry,” Paulina replies. Though she is happy to learn that that darned Kim had finally shown her true colors, she can’t help but feel bad for her ex-wife. “You don’t deserve two Corcueras in one day.”

At this, María José shakes her head with a chuckle. The brunette hands her the drink she had ordered for her in advance, and raises her own for a quick toast. “Fuck them,” she says.

“Fuck them,” echoes María José.

\---

“You can take my bed, María José,” Paulina says, as they enter her home.

After going into a little more detail about what she described as her newfound boxing career, María José had asked to sleep over, which Paulina had graciously agreed to. And though just the mere question had sent a renewed heat to her center, she was determined to take the high road still — besides, it had worked for her thus far. _The trash had taken itself out in the end,_ Paulina thinks to herself. _I didn’t even need to get my hands dirty._ And so she continues, “I can go sleep in Brunito’s room so you can be comfortable.” 

“No, Paulina, it’s okay. You’ll wake him.”

Paulina thinks about arguing further. She knows that Bruno can sleep through a hurricane, after all, and she really doesn’t mind giving her space if she needs it. But, truth be told, she’d really rather spend more time with María José, and so she says, “Okay. You can take the bathroom first.”

The blonde shoots her a smile in thanks before heading into the restroom, and Paulina drops herself on the foot of her bed. She hadn’t had such a busy day since Jenny and her Great Coming, she thinks with a sigh, though the company this time around is much more preferable. She bends to remove her shoes, and stands once more to grab an old but comfortable big shirt from her dresser. “No More Machos, Please,” it reads in big black letters, and she chuckles a little as she carries the soft garment to the door of the restroom, which the blonde had left slightly ajar. 

“María José,” she calls out through the crack, averting her eyes. “I got you a shirt.”

The sound of the running tap stops, and Paulina glances towards the crack in the door to come suddenly face to face with the blonde, face still wet and free of her usual makeup. Paulina thinks that it’s utterly unfair for someone to be this lovely with a bare face, and she hands over the shirt to her ex-wife, who thanks her softly. Trying not to think about a naked María José just beyond the doorway, she sits back down to wait.

Before long, the blonde steps tentatively out of the restroom. “How do I look?” María José asks, laughing and posing in the shirt Paulina had lent her. She looks silly in the big tent of a shirt, but the brunette can’t help but think about how she’s never seen anyone (or anything) more beautiful. And so she laughs and plays along. She uses her hands to pretend that she has a camera, and makes clicking noises as María José strikes pose after pose.

An easy silence follows, and Paulina hesitates, wanting to tell her that she’s beautiful, that she loves her, and that she’s happy to see the back of Kim forever and ever, and can they please try again because they’re clearly such a good team? But that was way too much, and so she keeps her mouth shut. It is María José who breaks the silence, walking towards the brunette and saying, “Thank you, Paulina, for today.”

Paulina smiles. “I should be thanking _you_.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” the blonde replies, placing a warm hand against Paulina’s cheek. That sweet sandalwood and vanilla scent is back again, and it isn’t the alcohol that Paulina thinks she’s drunk with — but her. So helplessly drunk, but still somehow parched for that scent and this woman. Her woman.

And so, before her anxious brain could stop her, she covers the hand on her cheek with her own, and turns her head slightly to give it a soft kiss.

“So that your hand heals soon,” she says, by way of explanation. 

A heartbeat passes, and María José pushes Paulina gently to get her to scoot backwards on the bed, and then places her knees on either side of the smaller woman’s thighs, her eyes never leaving Paulina’s. Wordlessly, María José tips her face up with a finger to her chin, and presses her lips to Paulina’s forehead. The latter’s eyes flutter closed as the blonde moves downwards to kiss each of her eyelids at an agonizingly slow pace. In the back of her mind, Paulina thinks it’s impossible to identify two scents as Chuy had instructed, because there is only this one, and nothing else matters. She focuses on her breathing, her brain in utter chaos.

The blonde moves to kiss one ear, and then another, before kissing the tip of her nose. “Paulina,” María José says softly, and the brunette opens her eyes, every nerve in her body jolted awake by the electricity between them. The blonde holds up both hands to Paulina’s face, and says, “I injured the other hand.”

It takes a second for this to sink in, and when it does, she can’t help the burst of laughter that escapes her mouth, can’t help wrapping her arms around the woman on top of her and leaning her head on the blonde’s chest. María José is laughing too, as she pushes them gently down to the bed, a hand behind Paulina’s head to guard it, and rolls off the brunette to lie down beside her. 

Catching her breath, Paulina takes María José’s injured hand — the correct one this time — and presses her lips gently against the still-red knuckles, neither of them able to stop from chuckling.

\--- 

Afterwards, when Paulina had taken her evening shower and spent a few minutes with her night creams (a habit she had delighted in rebuilding after prison), she walks back into her room to find María José fast asleep. _Poor baby,_ she thinks. _She must be so tired._

She pads as quietly as she can towards the bed, and places a blanket over the sleeping blonde before getting in next to her. It had been such a long, winding, and eventful day, and if she is being honest, she thinks about how there’s no one she would rather have spent it with. And if she is being _really_ honest, she could say the same thing regarding just about any other day, too.

But her eyelids are so heavy, and her heart full. She manages a quick apology to Chuy in her head for not being able to point out two smells today, as that smooth sandalwood-vanilla scent lulls her to sleep.

\---

The first thing Paulina notices upon waking up is that she had managed to fall asleep without her Tafil. And the second thing? The smell of coffee.

She opens her eyes to the morning sunlight and, to her slight disappointment, the other side of the bed now empty. The soft shirt María José had worn to sleep was folded neatly in her place, but her purse was still on the chair where she had dumped it last night, _so she must still be here_.

Paulina rises, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes before stretching her arms above her head. The door to her bathroom was ajar, but the light was off, so she walks out of her bedroom and into the light of the hallway. And there, at the end, was María José, clad in yesterday’s clothing, sipping from one of her mugs.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” the blonde says.

From somewhere in the kitchen, their son echoes, “Good morning, sleepyhead!” 

Paulina laughs at this, making her way towards her two loves and the source of the smell filling her lungs.

“You didn’t tell me our son makes such good coffee now,” María José says, smiling as Paulina takes a seat across from her.

“Yes,” the brunette replies, with a hint of pride. “Barista by morning, teen lip-syncing sensation by night, this one.”

Bruno walks over to them with her mug of coffee in hand. He sets it down in front of her and gives her a good morning kiss on the cheek. “You make great stage moms, mamá, mamá,” he says to them both, before taking his own seat. 

Paulina sighs, smiling. Though nothing about the situation between her and María José has been set in stone — _at least not yet_ , she thinks — this scene right in front of her is more than enough for today.

She takes a deep breath, noting María José’s enticing scent and the smell of fresh coffee by Bruno. _That’s two smells, Chuy,_ she thinks, and Paulina de la Mora enjoys the most peaceful morning she’s had in ages.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you missed the reference, the detail about the lingerie and Paulina's torture of José María is from Chapter 12 of Lorelai MD's Querer (No sin ti), which I have read twice now and you should, too (if you haven't yet!). Thank you again for letting me use that particular detail 🥰
> 
> Minor detail #1: In my culture, we have an expression that literally translates to "what a thick face," used to refer to someone who is shameless or has done or said something unacceptable — the inside joke being that MaJo injures her knuckle because of Kim's thick (or hard) face. This is lost in translation, but I thought I'd share it here for readers. :) 
> 
> Minor detail #2: I think the reason why the timeline for S3 is so confusing for my math-challenged brain is that so much happened to Pau and MaJo in Episode 9, and all their moments are in just short bursts, while Elena's womb is forming an entire new human in the background. 
> 
> Thank you again for sticking with me and this story so far, and I'm excited to give you more Majolina cuteness for the final chapter. Have a good day!


	5. Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later that morning, the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and Paulina is enjoying the sounds of her lover’s labored breathing. She is on her stomach, a hand lightly on the inside of María José’s thigh, her ears warm from the events of this morning. She delights in the fingers currently tangled up in her hair, and thinks that coaxing out her lover’s pleasure is a pleasure all on its own.
> 
> Paulina uses every trick she’s learned and mastered with María José over the years, and then some. She uses her fingers, lips, and tongue, torn between closing her eyes to savor the moment and keeping them open and steady to meet her lover’s grey-green ones. Every moan and whimper from María José’s mouth is like a trophy, and Paulina chases the high along with her. 

After breakfast (a quick baked eggs and chorizo, care of Paulina), Bruno bids goodbye to his mothers for another day at the studio, kissing each on the cheek before heading out.

Without realizing it, they fall into an easy rhythm of clearing the table, washing the plates, and organizing them on the drying tray — each other's movements characterized by a familiarity honed over years of practice. Paulina thinks about how María José’s presence makes even household chores fun and not just relaxing, and she hums Bruno's single every once in a while just to watch her lover's face scrunch up adorably.

The small of María José’s back is irresistible to Paulina as she passes her on her way to one of the cupboards, and so she lets a hand grace it gently as she walks past. This is soon repaid with a touch on her shoulder, fingers trailing across her back, as the blonde makes her way from the sink to the trash bin and back.

And when they are done cleaning up, Paulina finds herself leaning against the counter and facing a smiling María José in her small kitchen, just a tiny bit in disbelief at how nice this morning has been. And so she asks, "What are your plans for today?" when what she means to ask is  _ are you staying for a bit longer?  _

"I suppose at some point I will have to get my stuff from Kim's," she replies, her nose scrunching up once more. The monster that has taken up residence in Paulina's chest stirs at this, but it is too warm and too content at the moment to care, especially as María José continues, "But I'm not really in a rush to go there." 

The brunette laughs, as the taller woman takes a step closer to her. "Can I say how much I dislike her now?" 

"Only if you let me verbally destroy Alejo," came her tart reply. 

Not missing a beat, Paulina asks, "Who?" feigning confusion, and it is María José's turn to laugh. She’s seen her ex-wife in court before, and knows that the threat is quite real. The taller woman closes the distance between them, resting her hands on the counter behind either side of Paulina. 

Their eyes meet, and Paulina can't help but blush at how close their bodies are now, her heart beating like she's just run a marathon, or like she is 18 again. "You can stay here, if you like," she says quietly. "It doesn’t make sense for you to stay at that hotel again when we have room for you here."

María José stays quiet as if in thought, and so to be safe, Paulina adds, "I can stay with Brunito for a bit, too. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do or —" 

"What won't I want to do, Pau?" The blonde interrupts, eyes intently on hers. 

The question takes Paulina's breath away, and her mind scrambles to find an appropriate reply. "I… I don't know," she manages.

_ Think, Paulina,  _ she orders herself, the bravado of her teasing suddenly gone. She tries to recall that last step Chuy had said to stay grounded. But she is so, so distracted, and her eyes dart to María José's lips, pink and slightly parted — lips she knows are soft and delicious.  _ Wait, that's it!  _

Chuy had said to mark one thing she can taste. 

_ Well, if that’s the case…  _ she thinks, as she sees her lover’s lips curve into a smile. Paulina sighs, and she isn’t sure who moves first, as one of them closes the distance completely and captures the other’s lips with her own. What she is sure of is that it feels like she’s just come home after a very long trip, her lover’s kiss both refreshingly new and comfortingly familiar. She opens her mouth to María José, welcoming the taste and letting it register in her mind for a moment to finally tick off Chuy’s list for half a second — like coffee, with just a hint of mint from her chapstick, and a taste she can’t name but will recognize anywhere as her lover’s — before she loses herself in it.

Before long, María José’s hands find their way to her waist, as Paulina wraps her arms around the blonde’s neck, pulling herself as close to her as she could. Her lover’s hands move to her ass, and before she knows it, she is lifted up and onto the counter behind her. With a moan, she wraps her legs, too, around María José, the world outside of this embrace suddenly non-existent.

She feels her lover’s hands squeeze her ass cheeks before they travel upward, pushing to separate their torsos just slightly to land on the top button of her pajama. María José’s fingers are quick and deft, having done this hundreds of times before, but Paulina is impatient to feel them on her skin, and so she unwraps her arms from the blonde’s neck and tugs her shirt up to hasten the process. With some help, she manages to get the damn thing off, and Paulina turns her focus onto undoing María José’s belt. 

Her lover’s hands are warm and deliciously rough on her neck, her shoulders, and down to her breasts, distracting her, setting fire on her skin. Having loosened the blonde’s tenacious belt, Paulina tugs on María José’s shirt, feeling a slight sense of accomplishment after having fantasized about doing this all day yesterday. Before long, it, too, is discarded somewhere in the kitchen they had just cleaned, and Paulina delights in refamiliarizing her hands with the skin on her lover’s waist. One of María José’s hands come up and pull her hair lightly, gently forcing her face up to gaze at her lover’s once more.

“If it wasn’t obvious yet,” she says, chuckling and a little out of breath. “I would love to stay here,” — she punctuates this with a kiss on one cheek — “with you,” — she kisses the other — “sharing the same room.”

She presses her forehead to Paulina’s, and the brunette smiles at the reassurance. Her lover knows just what to say to slow the gears running in her head, knows where to touch to ease her tension, and knows what to do to drive her crazy in the best way.

And so it is with this in mind that she says, “Then why don’t we take this to our bedroom?”

\---

Later that morning, the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and Paulina is enjoying the sounds of her lover’s labored breathing. She is on her stomach, a hand lightly on the inside of María José’s thigh, her ears warm from the events of this morning. She delights in the fingers currently tangled up in her hair, and thinks that coaxing out her lover’s pleasure is a pleasure all on its own.

Paulina uses every trick she’s learned and mastered with María José over the years, and then some. She uses her fingers, lips, and tongue, torn between closing her eyes to savor the moment and keeping them open and steady to meet her lover’s grey-green ones. Every moan and whimper from María José’s mouth is like a trophy, and Paulina chases the high along with her. 

And when María José is done, her climax marked by a crescendo of Paulina’s name, Paulina rises to sit on her knees and admire her handiwork. Her lover’s body lies limp on her — well,  _ their _ — bed, coated in a sheen of light sweat.

She can’t help but think how very beautiful she is, and how powerful, though rendered entirely useless and spent underneath her, at least for now. Paulina smiles and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, squirming a little as she feels the heat between her own legs.

“Come here,” María José mutters, opening her arms. Paulina climbs into them and lies down, an arm wrapping around her lover’s waist, too. She savors the contact, and moves her palm to María José’s chest to feel her heartbeat as her lover trails her fingers lightly up and down her back.

The blonde presses a light kiss to the top of her head, and Paulina asks, “Good?”

Her lover replies with a heavy sigh, a big smile across her face. Paulina thinks about how that smile can light up any room. “What do you think?”

“I’m always looking to improve.”

“Oh, Paulina,” María José replies. “You’ll be the death of me. Look,” she says, gesturing to the goosebumps on her arm. 

Paulina laughs, and in one swift motion, the blonde sits both of them up, gently turning her lover’s body so that Paulina’s back is to María Jose’s chest, the latter’s back to the headboard. The arm she was just looking at finds its way around her waist, and Paulina feels her eyes roll back when a hand grasps her breast and a pair of lips land on her shoulder. Almost unconsciously, she lifts one leg up to hook against the outside of María José’s.

“Good?” María José asks her this time around, her voice laced with mischief. 

Paulina struggles to form a reply, her brain feeling like soup. “What do you think?” she manages to gasp out.

María José’s hand is moving slowly, tantalizingly down to the source of all the heat in between her legs, while her mouth moves up her neck to settle right next to her ear. “I’m always looking to improve,” the blonde whispers.

At this, Paulina lets out a moan. Instead of touching her where she desperately wanted her to, the blonde’s hands move right past her center to draw light circles on her hip and upper thigh. 

“What do you want, Paulina?” she asks, and the brunette squirms. The question, along with the feeling of it whispered into her ear, is almost too much to bear, and Paulina doubts she can create a coherent reply. Her lover is well aware of this, she knows, and it feels like María José’s fingers can’t go any slower. It is all she can do to reach an arm behind her head to grasp at the blonde’s hair and use the other to grab a hold of the hand currently playing along her thigh.

With María José wrapped around her, a hand now on her throat and another so close to her center, Paulina closes her eyes and loses herself to the all the different sensations — the sight of her lover’s hands on her body, the rough press of her hands, the sound of her breathing, the smell of sex, and the taste of her ex-wife still on her tongue. 

The blonde makes her gasp, and then beg. And finally, María José’s hands touch her where she so desperately wanted to be touched, her deft fingers exploring the wetness there and destroying what was left of Paulina’s composure.

She lets her head fall backwards to lean on the blonde’s shoulders, and can’t help but grasp at the sheets, her lover’s hair, and her own breast in turn. She knows, objectively, that all lovers feel like they’re creating something new, but after all their years together — both before and after the divorce — surely there is no way that what they are doing isn’t some sort of magic.

They spend all day in bed, and only rise once Bruno texts that he’ll be home in thirty minutes.

\---

At the time, she had thought that if heaven existed it would be on their bed, lazing the day away and pulling each other back every time one of them had a thought to get up. 

Afterwards, she corrected herself by thinking that the sight of her love, fresh off a stolen police motorbike and telling her  _ yes, Paulina de la Mora, I accept, I shouldn’t, but I do _ — she had thought then that  _ that _ was heaven, looking out from a dirty police car, hands on the window aching to reach out to the beautiful woman who is officially now her fiancé.

But no, she realizes now that she was wrong both times.

Heaven, she decides, is right now, outside the flower shop that was both her family’s curse and salvation, looking at the love of her life, arm-in-arm with their son, walking down the aisle towards her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've mentioned it a couple of times now but this is the first writing project I've had (and completed) that wasn't for school or work in years, so posting this final chapter today feels like I ran and finished a marathon. 
> 
> A million thank yous to everyone who's read and supported + a million thank yous to my girlfriend, who encouraged me to start writing — she doesn't even watch LCDLF! — and provides much inspiration for the more mature things that I've written here. Have a good day, and happy Mother's Day to Majolina only 🥰


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